


Imagine: Castiel getting distracted while grocery shopping with you.

by webcricket



Series: Castiel Imagines [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Fluff, F/M, castiel humor, castiel nsfw, castiel smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 04:58:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12335931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcricket/pseuds/webcricket





	Imagine: Castiel getting distracted while grocery shopping with you.

You followed the trail of tears – tears of the unfortunate beleaguered grocery store staff – in your search for the missing angel.

Although you had a good laugh, and still did thinking about it now, Castiel had not appreciated being summoned over the intercom loudspeaker like a lost child on the previous week’s trip. For the wrongful hurt to his pride, he endeavored to ignore you for the rest of that particular evening, pretending to be engrossed in a documentary about the manufacture of cheese. In retrospect, you couldn’t actually be certain he wasn’t deeply interested in the topic. He managed, that night, to stoically withhold his affections until you kissed the sensitive nape of his neck _just so_ , lips and warm breath tickling his ear as you whispered in highly specific detail the not wholly unpleasant physical punishment warranted to wandering angels. The wave of arousal surging within his vessel upon perceiving your suggestion betrayed his celestially feigned lack of interest and he willingly submitted to your reprimand with an unconvincingly remorseful gravel-edged promise uttered by him as you lay together in a tangle of limbs and sheets, sweat-soaked and gasping, _never_ to wander off again.

You passed aisle 4B now, noting the shattered jar of sliced pickles splattered and seeping in all directions, pale green juice being sluiced around ineffectively by a grumbling horn-rimmed glasses wearing man in a jaunty striped red vest bearing the market’s embroidered logo on the upper pocket and the word MANAGER in bold. You shrugged sympathetically when he glanced up and he gestured to the far wall of the store. This practically affirmed to you Dean’s belief that the angel’s picture, unshaven strong jaw and brilliant blue eyes displayed in both portrait and profile, was plastered in warning of a menace-at-large in grocery break rooms across the beautiful state of Kansas and perhaps beyond. You imagined there probably existed training exercises wherein the staff scrambled SWAT-style, brooms and mops at the ready to contend with every possible mess he might create, with complex contingency plans for the horribly unfathomable aftermath. Reinforcements were likely summoned with a tri-county APB to assist in the reorganization of the disheveled shelves upon his happy departure.

Approaching the indicated far wall, the wheel of your cart twisting squeakily in protest all the way, you discovered Castiel standing mid-aisle, basket of sundries forgotten at his feet, intently perusing a magazine. “What are you reading?” It was a redundant question. You could clearly see he held aloft the latest issue of the women’s magazine Cosmopolitan.

Unsurprised given the noise accompanying your arrival, he focused quizzically on you over the glossy pages, eyes narrowing askance, asking seriously, “Did you know there are five types of female orgasm?”

An elderly grey-haired woman scanning the greeting cards at the opposite end of the aisle coughed and shot him a rheumy castigating glare. A young mother pushing past with a stroller quickly redirected her momentum to flee toward the hot yeasty scent drifting from the bakery section. The buxom middle-aged employee kneeling to reinstate order amid the paper products in the angel’s wake looked up at you with a sensual simpering feminine smile, evidently approving of Castiel’s interest in the matter and thinking you a very lucky woman indeed.

Your eyes widened, cheeks staining with the rosy tint of profound mortification. This was surely his payback for the intercom incident.

Those luminous blue pools of light he possessed for eyes beamed expectantly at you, expression punctuated innocently with the endearing heart-melting puppy-dog tilt to his chin he had long ago learned to wield as a formidable weapon in human interaction.

Mouth gaping, tongue thick and velvety, your throat cracked dryly as you answered, “Did you know that there are at least a thousand different ways to embarrass your girlfriend in public and you seem to be an expert at every single one of them.”

Undaunted by your reaction, a small satisfied smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he closed the article and bent to slip the magazine in his basket. The seraph smugly and silently predicted that odds were in his favor that he’d be needing it very shortly for reference.


End file.
